Heart of a Warden
by aimless-37
Summary: Very AU Story of Elandara a female Warden in Lothlorien
1. Default Chapter

Title: Heart of a Warden Author: Amy S LaRose aimless@fidnet.com Pairing: Rumil/OFC Rating: PG WARNING: Mild violence Beta: Disclaimer: All of the characters with the exception of my own creations are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. I make no money off of this story. I am writing it for my own pleasure and my desire to share. Feedback: Always appreciated. Constructive criticism only please. Archiving: Yes, just let me know where it ends up Summary: This is the story of Elandara, a female Warden of Lorien. Author's Notes: Very AU Spoilers: None that I can think of.  
  
Heart of a Warden  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Sharp Elven eyes scanned the horizon as the sun rose, bathing the treetops of the western border of Lothlorien in its golden light. A lone figure stood on a flet high in the trees in what was one of the most isolated watch posts in the forest. Dressed in the gray and green of the wardens of the wood, with a bow near to hand and a sword sheathed at the hip, the watcher took note of a thin plume of smoke rising in the distance. Unable to think of a reason for the smoke the warden swiftly descended to the forest floor and took off in a ground-eating run towards the source.  
  
Cautiously as the warden drew closer it became apparent that the smoke came from the smoldering remains of several wagons. Disgust and pity etched the features of the warden as it soon became very clear what had happened to the unlucky travelers. Several Orc bodies were lying twisted and broken among the debris. It seemed that the travelers had managed to kill a few of their attackers before they were overwhelmed. Conspicuously absent were any signs of human remains other than pools of blood congealing upon the ground. That was not surprising since the warden knew that orcs had an abominable habit of eating their victims. Sifting through the wreckage the warden surmised that this had been a trader caravan, though why they were in this location was a mystery. Perhaps they had been lost or herded here to ambush.  
  
Approaching the only mostly intact wagon the warden peered inside, it was empty, which was to be expected. Orcs were raiders and scavengers and left nothing behind. What the warden did not expect was a fierce biting pain across her right thigh after she had leaned over to look into the wagon. Crying out in distress the warden stumbled backwards, eyes lighting on a lone orc that huddled in the darkness beneath the wagon. The orc appeared injured and had most likely been abandoned by its brethren. A crude dagger in its filthy hands now dripped red with blood. With a curse the warden drew steel and skewered the disgusting creature before it could swing again. The warden, ashamed and angry to have been caught so off guard kicked the now dead orc and hobbled around the wreckage to ensure of no more nasty surprises.  
  
Once satisfied that the danger had passed the warden sheathed her sword and glanced down at the messy wound. The long, jagged vertical slice had immediately started to bleed and was soaking through her leggings, nausea threatened to overwhelm the injured elf. The warden knew that to get to first-aid supplies and eventual help, getting back to the flet was crucial. Fighting dizziness the warden removed her wool sash and wrapped it around her thigh. She tied the ends and pulled it tight to try and slow the bleeding, the pain was intense as waves of agony washed out from the wound to almost engulf the warden. Black spots danced in front of the elf's vision; unable to quell the nausea again she fell to her knees and lost what breakfast had been consumed hours earlier. Wiping lips with a trembling hand, the warden staggered to a standing position and limped back towards the wood and relative safety. The wound, by this time, started to feel hot and a tingling numbness started to creep up her leg. She cursed again at the slain orc for his blade had been poisoned. It was now imperative that she reach the flet without delay.  
  
After what seemed like an eternity the warden entered the edge of the wood. She limped to a halt and staggered, falling to the ground and jarring her injured leg. The pain was intense and darkness threatened to close in, refusing to give in to the void the warden rose once more on unsteady feet and grasped the rope ladder. The climb to the flet was excruciatingly slow and the lure to pass out almost too great. The warden heaved a sigh of relief as her head cleared the hole in the floor and she pulled herself inside and collapsed. Panting in exhaustion she took a moment to rest knowing what was to come would be unpleasant.  
  
Levering herself once more to her feet she limped over to the chest that contained the first-aid supplies. The first thing she did was to grab a small corked vial out of the kit. She pulled out the cork with her teeth and downed the contents in one swallow. The antidote, while not being able to completely cure the effects, would at least help purge the poison from her body. She then gathered the herbs, and cloths she would need to clean the wound. She also grabbed a clean bowl and a water skin, and sat awkwardly back down on the floor. She laid out the supplies and poured a generous amount of water into the bowl. She then added a handful of herbs to the cold water, crushing them as she did so, releasing a pungent astringent aroma. The Warden would have preferred to use hot water but she felt too weak to put forth the effort.  
  
She grasped the ends of the makeshift bandage and untied the knot, her fingers fumbling as she struggled to loosen the blood-soaked material. Even though she had clenched her teeth in anticipation of the pain an agonized cry escaped her lips. Fresh blood welled from the long slice, but she noted with relief that it did not spurt out. She had seen someone bleed to death before from a similar wound and thanked the Valar that the orc's blade, while having bitten deep, missed anything vital.  
  
In order to properly see the wound she had to remove her leggings. First she removed her boots while trying not to bend her injured leg. Then she untied the laces on the leggings and carefully tugged them down her hips. The soft doeskin leggings were caked with blood and adhering to the wound. She carefully peeled the material away from the injury and pushed the leggings to her knees. She used her uninjured leg to push them the rest of the way down. Her stomach gave a sickening lurch as she examined the wound. The cut, jagged and about 2 hand spans long bled freely. The orc had stabbed the dagger in to the hilt then had drawn the blade downward before pulling it out right above her knee. The wound was also full of debris from when she had fallen. Orc swords were filthy and she was unlucky that the blade had also been poisoned.  
  
Making a pad of one of the cloths she dipped it into the liquid in the bowl, and then pressed it tightly to the wound. Tears streamed down her cheeks as the stinging liquid seeped into the slice. She applied pressure to the wound for a few moments, then removed the cloth and dipped it into the bowl and again pressing it to the cut. She did this several more times till the bleeding slowed to a trickle. The warden used her fingers to pluck as much of the debris from the wound as possible and dug into the bag of herbs to remove some largish furry blue-green leaves. She crumbled one directly into the cut and the rest, with a little of the astringent water, formed a poultice. She used a clean cloth to hold it in place and used bandage strips from the storage chest to tightly bind the wound.  
  
She had done the best that she could, and would have to wait till her replacement showed up in 3 days. The warden mentally thanked Elbereth that she was near the end of her watch rotation. She could not make it back to the city on her own and the next nearest guard post was 4 leagues to the north. She was better off to stay put till help came, plus she did not think she could make it back down the ladder. Also every 5 days an outrider would check the border guards and take any messages of importance back to the city, she would have to rest until either one made an appearance. With her remaining strength she crawled to her store of supplies and grabbed a full water skin, a cup, the rest of the herbs and then made it to her bedroll and collapsed. Her leggings were left wadded up in a pool of blood, along with the bowl of red tinged water and the used cloths. Normally a very tidy person she just did not have the strength to clean up the mess. The warden had barely enough energy to shakily pour some of the water into the cup, take another smaller packet of herbs add it to the water and gulp down the contents. Gagging at the bitter taste she pushed the cup away and lay down. She managed to pull the blankets up and then allowed herself the luxury of oblivion.  
  
Her mind wandered in her reverie, partly due to the strong pain killing herbs and partly due to the stress of the wound. It focused on a time many centuries ago when she was but an elfling.  
  
"Elendara! Elendara! Where are you child?" A voice called out in the midst of a large garden.  
  
An Elven woman stood, hands on hips, looking around for her wayward child. She was blonde and fair as were most of the Lorien elves. She was of medium height and slender build, almost delicate. She wore a dress of homespun wool suitable for gardening on an early spring day. The dress and her hands were streaked with mud from working in her herb beds. A small tousled blonde head popped out of the bushes. The woman sighed noting that her child's hair was a veritable nest of twigs and leaves.  
  
"Here I am Nana, I was hunting orcs! See I even have a sword." She excitedly waved a small branch in the air as she leapt out of the bushes.  
  
The elf shook her head at the disheveled state of her only child.  
  
"Just look at you Dara, I suppose it is expecting too much of you to at least stay clean and out of trouble while I weed the herb beds, why don't you play with your doll?"  
  
"I don't wanna Nana, I want to play warrior, can I go and play warrior? Please?"  
  
With a long suffering sigh the child's mother sent her off to play. Admonishing her not to go too far. With a cry of glee the young girl ran to find some playmates. She did not have to look long, for in a clearing were a group of male elves about her own age. They all had mock swords and were playing warrior. The girl ran up to the group eager to join in on the game.  
  
"Can I play too? I want to be a warrior. I want to play orc hunter."  
  
A larger boy, who seemed to be the spokesman for the group looked at the girl in front of him with a sneer on his face. He stepped up and spoke in an unfriendly tone.  
  
"You? Want to play with us? You are only a silly girl, go play with your dolls. You do not even have a proper sword, just a little stick."  
  
He then took the stick away from her and broke it into several pieces before dropping it to the ground. "Go away we do not want you here."  
  
At these cruel words the young Elf's eyes filled with tears. The boys all started to laugh and taunt her for being weak. With a cry she ran off into the wood and swiftly climbed one of the great trees. Once high up in the branches she gave in to her sorrow, curling up on one of the large branches, and sobbing noisily.  
  
She did not notice that her distress had attracted the attention of a young elf, and curious he climbed the tree to see who was crying. It startled her so much when he climbed up beside her that she almost fell off of the branch.  
  
"Why are you crying? I could hear you all the way across the glade." Inquired an unfamiliar elven boy.  
  
She looked up at him through tear filled eyes. He had an engaging smile and he looked at her with concern. He had a kind face and his silvery blond hair was braided in the style of most of the male elves, a braid at each temple and a thicker plait in the back. He was dressed in a green tunic and brown leggings.  
  
"Why should you care? I am only a girl." She responded bitterly.  
  
"Well as to why I care, I hate seeing someone so miserable on such a nice day. Plus your loud sobbing was scaring away the wildlife." He remarked with a grin.  
  
"Those, those boys would not let me play warrior! They said I was only a silly girl, and should run home to my Nana. I want to play warrior! I do not want to play with dolls, or learn to sew and cook. I want to climb trees, and run through the wood. I want to...well I just want to do everything the boys get to do."  
  
The words came out in a rush of emotion leaving her panting slightly.  
  
"Just who was it that said these things to you?" the boy inquired.  
  
The girl described her tormentors and the boy's mouth turned down into a sneer.  
  
"I know who you speak of, the large boy is named Telerin and the rest are his cronies. He is a bully and has tried to catch me alone on occasion. We do not get along. You should avoid him."  
  
"I do not know anyone else who might play warrior with me or climb trees with me or do all those other things I want to do." She said plaintively  
  
"I will, if you help me get back at Telerin for being such a toad, I cannot stand that bully."  
  
She looked at him again a little stunned that he wanted to be her friend.  
  
"You will? I mean..why me? I do not even know who you are."  
  
"I'm not sure why, you just seem like you might be fun to be around and much better company than Telerin. So are you willing to help me teach that bully a lesson? Oh and my name is Rúmil."  
  
The girl wiped her eyes and slowly smiled at the thought of getting revenge on the bully who made her cry.  
  
"My name is Elendara, but my nana calls me Dara. So what can we do to teach that rat a lesson? I do not like him either."  
  
Rúmil outlined a rather diabolical bit of revenge on the boy who liked to torment them both. Their eyes lit with the same glee as they thought of the prank they would pull.  
  
After this incident, which had left Telerin's skin a bright orange for the better part of a month, they became fast friends and managed to get into much mischief together. Elandara also met Rúmil's middle brother Orophan and he became the third co-conspirator. Dara spent most of her free time on adventures with the two brothers. She also met the eldest brother named Haldir who already spent most of his time training with the other prospective wardens. She was a bit in awe of him, as he seemed so adult and responsible even at his young age. He was the head of their family since the three brothers' Mother and Father had been killed when Rúmil was but a very young elfling. Dara could not conceive the thought of ever losing her parents. It was this thought that turned her reminiscing into much darker dreams. She dreamt that her parents were surrounded by orcs and that she was still but a helpless child. She watched the creatures close in on her parents and awoke with a scream. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Note: See Disclaimer in One  
  
Awareness returned in a pain filled rush. The herbs had worn off and her leg was throbbing and felt hot. She blinked a few times in confusion trying to sort out what had happened. Her mind was clouded due to the drugs and the orcish poison that had yet to be purged from her system. The fog began to clear as the pain from the wound increased in intensity. She looked around, the flet had grown dark and she could barely see the hand in front of her face. She also checked the injury by running her hands over the bandage. It seemed that the bleeding had stopped so she did not unwrap the dressing; the herbs she used on the cut needed time to work. She slowly sat up, and the dizziness she felt upon waking increased ten fold. Gasping for breath she reached for the cup she had dropped earlier.  
  
Once more she filled it with water, her shaking hands spilling a fair amount onto the floor. Another packet of herbs went into the water, and then she drank the concoction and slumped back onto her pallet. She was cold and her limbs were trembling, most likely it was her body fighting the vestiges of the poison that the antidote was unable to counter. The drugs once more took hold and in her delirium wandered the paths of her memories once more.  
  
The training grounds of the wardens were situated in a large clearing not far from the city. A young elf woman stood at the edge of the trees watching the wardens in training. She took in their every move, jealous that they got to do what she craved. She watched every day, even to the extent of missing her lessons in the healers' hall. She was expected to follow her Mother's profession of herbalist. The lessons she took at hall did fascinate her but not to the extent of what she was now observing. She especially loved to watch the archery lessons. Elendara was consumed with envy that two of her close friends, Rúmil and Orophan, were training to be wardens of the wood. She hardly saw them at all anymore and missed the camaraderie.  
  
The brothers were getting to be quite skilled under the direct tutelage of their older brother Haldir. She watched them send arrow after arrow into the targets. They also trained in swords and hand to hand fighting, Elendara watched it all from her vantage point at the edge of the field. She shrieked in surprise when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Whirling around she came face to face with Haldir; she swallowed nervously at having been caught. Knowing she would be sent away she lowered her head and waited for the dismissal. When it was not forthcoming she looked up and to her amazement he was smiling slightly.  
  
"Why do you come here? I have noticed your presence at the training grounds nearly every day for months. What is it you seek?" He looked directly into her eyes and she got the feeling she had better tell him the truth.  
  
She looked at Haldir and tried to decide what to say. He had always intimidated her a bit, and he was always so serious. He had never been anything but polite to her but he had a presence about him that demanded respect. The few times she had ever seen him laugh was when he was in the company of his brothers. With them he was free to just be himself, and not the elf whose shoulders had to bear the burden of all of his responsibilities. Throwing caution to the wind she answered his question.  
  
"I want to train in weapons like Rúmil and Orophin. I want to learn to use a bow and a sword. I want to be a warden and protect the golden wood." His eyes narrowed as he studied her.  
  
"Why?" He asked, putting so much emphasis on that simple word that she knew somehow, that her entire future might depend on it. Taking a deep breath she thought hard about her answer before she spoke.  
  
"I feel this need to do something besides learn herb craft, or any of the other skills I am encouraged to do as a young lady. I cannot explain it, to put into words what I feel, but I will try. I talk to Rúmil and Orophan and they seem so focused on becoming a warden. I envy them because they will be protecting something they love. With their very lives if it is needed of them. I want to feel that, I want to protect my home. I have this; I guess you could call it a need to...Oh never mind! I want the impossible; I yearn for something I can never achieve. I should not have come here."  
  
Frustrated she turned to leave. He put a hand on her arm gripping it tightly to hold her in place.  
  
"Why do you think your desire is unattainable? That it is so far out of your reach that you will just settle for what you said was a job you do not wish."  
  
"My parents would never allow it, there are no female wardens. How could I ever hope to be one?"  
  
"If it is what you truly desire I could speak to the Lord and Lady about allowing you to train. It is not a task to be undertaken lightly. You must be sure this is what you wish. The training will be hard and you will be under close scrutiny. Some will expect you to fail and others will sneer at your choice. Are you prepared to accept this?"  
  
Her heart leapt at his offer. It was what she dreamed of, ever since she was a child. "It is what I wish, I am prepared to accept whatever hardships are required."  
  
With those words her life changed dramatically. She recalled standing before the Lord and Lady, with her parents in attendance, as she asked permission to train to be a warden. Her Mother and father objected, and she needed every bit of Haldir's persuasive skill to be allowed a trial period. If at the end of one year Haldir judged her unsuitable to be a warden her training would cease and she would continue her lessons as an herbalist. Her parents reluctantly agreed and she began training. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Note: See Disclaimer in One  
  
Determined not to fail she was diligent in her chosen vocation. She was always the first one on the practice grounds and the last one to leave. She pestered Orophin and Rúmil ceaselessly to provide her with extra instruction. During that first year she was the butt of many jokes, was sneered at, or openly ignored by her peers. Haldir's calm and patient teaching coupled with Rúmil and Orophan's stalwart support gave her the strength she needed to continue. Orophan became her confidant; to him she confessed all her fears. It was his shoulder she cried upon when self doubt and recriminations became overwhelming. His calm acceptance of her tantrums and her moods taught her self control.  
  
Rúmil though, was the one she could always count on to make her laugh and the one who challenged her most. He delighted in pushing her to the edge of her abilities and beyond. He was also her fiercest defender when some of the other warden candidates grew resentful of her presence. Gradually she was accepted into their ranks as her skills improved. At the end of the first year she was tested by Haldir and some of his best wardens to determine the level of her skill. After rigorous trials of her sword work, bow skill and hand-to-hand fighting she was considered to be of equal competence to most of the other candidates. The fact that she had accomplished this in a year left no doubts as to her potential. It was decided that she could continue her training.  
  
In the years that followed, in addition to the fighting skills she was also taught how to track and to move through the forest silently and without leaving a trace. Some of the candidates were not able to complete the training and withdrew to pursue other life paths. Seeing others fail just made her more determined. It was all Rúmil could do to drag her away from the practice fields, gone it seemed, was his carefree childhood companion. She had been replaced by a virtual stranger who was obsessed with becoming warden. Elendara realized that her dedication to her training left little time for her to spend with her two closest friends Orophan and Rúmil. She felt guilty for being envious of their skill. All of the things the trainees had to learn seemed to come so effortlessly to the brothers, to the extent that she felt slow and clumsy in their presence. It all came to a head during a sparring match. She was to test her sword ability against Rúmil. During the match he taunted her as usual and had just dumped her to the ground for the third time when her temper snapped. As she was lying in the dirt he could not resist more teasing comments.  
  
"Do you intend to lie there all day Dara? You dreadfully need the practice. I mean you are hardly a challenge as it is, I promise I will take it easy on you." He said with a smile.  
  
His mock insults were just a part of their sparring match. He would insult her then she would insult him, and it would continue till the match was over. So Rúmil was utterly surprised when she grabbed his ankle and pulled him off of his feet. He landed hard on his back, sword flying out of his hand and a stunned look on his face.  
  
She flung herself at him and pinned him to the ground.  
  
"You take that back! I am sick and tired of your comments. I am just as good do you hear me!" She was yelling at this point with her hands knotted in his tunic.  
  
Not being able to help himself one more comment slipped out of his mouth.  
  
"Better than me? I do not think so. Are you going to cry now?"  
  
She literally saw red and before she could stop it her fist shot out and caught him square on the jaw. Her fist was cocked to hit him again when a pair of hands seized her from behind and pulled her away from Rúmil. She struggled to get loose as she realized it was Orophin that had a hold of her. Rúmil sat up and rubbed his sore jaw.  
  
"Smooth brother very smooth, I do not think I have seen her this mad in quite a long time, just what did you say to her?"  
  
Rúmil sat looking a bit perplexed. "I have no idea, it was just our usual sparring banter. I am sorry if I upset you Dara."  
  
An apology was the last thing she wanted. She stopped struggling and Orophan released her arms. Still very angry she fled into the woods. She stopped near a small stream and tried to regain her temper. She closed her eyes and concentrated in calming herself. After a few moments she got the feeling she was being watched. Elendara opened her eyes and looked up. Standing right across from her leaning casually against a tree stood Haldir. She could tell by the expression on his face that he was angry. She glared back at him, not the wisest of choices, but she was not feeling very wise at the moment.  
  
"Just what did you think you were doing back there? I thought I taught you not to lose your temper in a fight. Maybe I should put you back in the novice class."  
  
Her cheeks flushed red with shame and she tried to stammer out an explanation. His scrutiny made her feel like an elfling again.  
  
"It is not my fault! Rúmil started it, if he had not taunted me I would not have lost my temper."  
  
He raised one eyebrow at her answer, and continued to glare.  
  
"So now we are reduced to making excuses? I thought better of you. A warrior who loses their temper in a fight is as good as dead. When anger takes over you cease to think and begin to make mistakes. I have seen many warriors fall who could not control their ire."  
  
Elendara turned her back on him. She bowed her head; shoulders slumped in defeat. Her anger now completely gone was replaced by guilt.  
  
"I honestly did not mean to explode like that. It's just that I feel so clumsy around the three of you. It seems I will never be good enough. Maybe I should go back to the healers hall."  
  
Haldir, sighing in exasperation stepped in front of Elendara. He placed a finger under her chin and raised her head to look her in the eyes.  
  
"Do you think I have been easy on you? That I have given you an unfair advantage over the candidates that have left? Do you think that I have been lax in your training? That I would even consider advance training If I did not judge you to be ready to handle it?"  
  
"No, no, I do not think you have been easy on me." She stammered. "You seem to be harder on me than on the others. You constantly push me, as do Orophin and Rúmil."  
  
"If it seems we have been harder on you, it is because it is the truth. There are those who would expect you to fail. As your sponsor I have to make sure you are more than ready to face the life you have chosen. Your conduct reflects on us all. Rúmil and Orophan exceed your skill because they have been training much longer than you. You cannot compare your skill to theirs, at least not yet. You do, however, exceed the skill of the other candidates. I pair you with my brothers because the rest of the trainees are not a challenge to you anymore. If you fail to see that then you are blind."  
  
"I feel so foolish, how can you bear to put up with me?" He placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a playful shake.  
  
"I have known you since you were a child, you have been a good friend to Rúmil and Orophin. Though it is a wonder I survived the mischief of that friendship. As to your abilities, I can tell you that you are skilled but until you actually believe it is true your self-doubt will continue to hold you back. Now shall we rejoin the others? You left Rúmil a bit confused and with an aching jaw, an apology might be in order. Although, from the ease in which you knocked Rúmil off his feet, I would say that your hand-to-hand fighting skills are quite good and my brother's quite rusty."  
  
As they walked back to the training grounds Haldir spoke again. "Oh yes, I almost forgot. For losing your temper and forgetting your training I will require you to spend tomorrow's rest day fletching arrows in the armory. You can use the time to think about what I have said."  
  
Elendara slowed her steps as they approached the practice grounds. She would have stopped completely if Haldir had not given her a light shove that propelled her into the clearing. The day was growing late and the other trainees had left. Only Rúmil and Orophin remained behind. She approached the brothers and was momentarily at a loss for words. They had all gotten hurt much worse than a sore jaw during weapons training but she had never attacked in anger.  
  
"I am so sorry I lost my temper. I took my anger and frustration out on you and you did not deserve such treatment. I...I was jealous that your skills surpassed mine. I feared I was not good enough."  
  
Rúmil looked at her in surprise. "Jealous? Why would you be jealous? You are better than the rest of the candidates. You are always practicing, in fact we have to drag you away from here most evenings."  
  
She looked at the darkening bruise on his face caused by her fist.  
  
"Does it hurt much?" She asked lightly touching his face.  
  
Orophin looked at his brother and remarked.  
  
"Oh yes it was quite a blow, he whined and complained about the pain the whole time you were gone."  
  
Rúmil narrowed his eyes and glared at his brother.  
  
"Very funny Phin, any more observations you'd like to make? As for getting punched, it was not so bad. I'd rather get hit by you than by trainee Deleon. His fists are like stone blocks. He was a blacksmith's apprentice before he entered training to be a warden."  
  
Orophin and Rúmil both slung an arm over her shoulders in a comforting gesture since she looked so miserable.  
  
"So did big Brother give you a lecture? Did it help?" Elendara nodded at Rúmil's question  
  
Orophin added "If I know my brother he doled out some kind of vile despicable punishment for losing your temper today. What was it?"  
  
"I have fletching duty tomorrow at the armory."  
  
Rúmil laughed.  
  
"Is that all? Haldir must be going soft. Our punishments were always infinitely worse and usually very unpleasant. Come lets go back, I swiped..um I mean appropriated a rather nice bottle of wine from the kitchens. You can have a glass or two with us and tell us all your problems."  
  
They left the clearing arm in arm. Later as they sat around drinking the wine she unburdened herself of all of her worries and fears. They listened and they teased and they comforted her, so by the time she left for her Talan it was with a much lighter heart.  
  
The pain of her current circumstances pulled her out of this pleasant memory and thrust her back into the present. She awoke feeling very weak and sick. It was light outside again and she had no way of knowing how much time had passed. The amount of pain radiating from the injury told her something was very wrong. She threw off the blankets and barely managed to sit up. Her leg was totally useless now; it was simply too sore to move. Taking a deep breath she unwrapped the bandage. The blood crusted dressing came away in one piece, and what it revealed made her sick with dread. The wound was an angry red color and swollen. Her whole upper leg felt like it was on fire. Infection had set in despite all of her precautions. She vehemently cursed the orc that had stabbed her and its filthy habits. Orcs liked to cause as much pain and suffering as they could. So it was not an uncommon practice for them to, in addition to the poison, further taint their blades, making the recipient of a wound from their hands very ill or dead within days if no medical help was sought. With the supplies she had gathered earlier she made another poultice and wrapped her leg in clean bandages. Even this little effort left her trembling and weak. She hoped that the warden who was to replace her would arrive soon, as her supplies were running low. Elendara grabbed the waterskin and greedily drank what was left, then tossed it aside. She collapsed back onto her pallet as another round of tremors shook her body. The antidote for the orcish poison had done its job; it had kept the toxin from killing her. It did not however, erase the symptoms from the poison or kill the infection in the wound. The herbs she had used had helped as much as they were able, but the gods only knew what had been smeared on that blade in the orc's hand. The last thing she was able to do was to pull the blankets up around her ears as she passed out again. As the day passed into night she was so lost in delirium that only shadows and incomprehensible images flitted through her fevered mind. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 Note: See Disclaimer in One  
  
On the dawn of the third day the elf that was to replace Elendara on border watch made his way toward the edge of the woods. Not a single sound marked his passing as he moved virtually unseen through the forest. He stopped when he got within sight of the tree that held the flet. He whistled a signal to let the warden know of his arrival. The moments went by and only normal birdsong filled the air. He repeated the signal and was again greeted with no counter sign. The elf became a bit alarmed. He stealthily approached the base of the tree. His sharp eyes picked out many rusty reddish brown blotches staining the ground. They led right to the base of the rope ladder and ended in a fairly good-sized stain. The ladder should have been pulled up into the tree as well. He looked closely at the ladder; it too held smears of the same brownish color. He recognized immediately that the stains were blood, and at least several days old. Sick dread caused the Elf's stomach to clench as he climbed the ladder and cautiously poked his head inside. The smell of blood and sweat washed over him as he looked around.  
  
Scattered about were bloodstained cloths, a carelessly discarded sword belt, empty herb packets and a wadded up pair of leggings. Dried blood also liberally spattered the wooden floor. On the bedroll in the corner a figure was cocooned completely in the blankets. He quickly pulled himself up through the trap door and hastily went to the bedroll and knelt down. He lifted the blankets and there his friend lay shivering and very ill. He looked at her in shock as he took in the pallor of her skin. Her closed eyes and tangled, sweat dampened hair were a good indication that she was very sick. He placed a gentle hand on her forehead; it was burning hot. At his touch she began to thrash around and mutter incoherently. He grabbed her shoulders and held her down until the tremors ceased. He was stunned at her condition and it was imperative that he find out just what had happened. He removed the twisted blankets to see where all the blood had come from. It became immediately apparent when he uncovered her legs. Her right thigh was swathed in a heavy, bloodstained bandage that covered her leg from mid-thigh to just above her knee. Her delirious flailing must have reopened the wound because spots of bright crimson now seeped through the wrapping.  
  
"Oh Dara what trouble have you managed to get into? You are a mess. I only hope I can fix the damage."  
  
He lightly brushed the hair out of her eyes and with a worried frown he then unwrapped the bandages covering her wound. He hissed in sympathy as he surveyed the damage. It appeared to be a deep puncture wound continuing in a long slice that ended at her knee. The injury was an angry red color and very swollen. Blood seeped from the wound in several places and her knee also appeared to be quite inflamed. His healing ability, while not as strong as his brothers' would have to be enough. He placed his hands on the wound and murmured in under his breath, warmth from his hands flowed into the wound. After a few minutes he sensed that the injury was as healed as his limited ability could make it. He removed his hands and looked at the wound. It was still red, swollen and raw looking, but at least the bleeding had stopped. He stood and went over to the provisions chest and rummaged through the depleted supplies for more bandages. From his own waterskin he wet one of the cloths and cleaned the wound before bandaging it again.  
  
He had to get her fever down. He looked through the supplies that were left, and the only water left in the Flet was what he had brought with him. There seemed to be plenty of dried food in the storage chest along with some herbs that would be useful in reducing a fever. First he had to get Dara more comfortable. Her tunic was damp with sweat and her blankets were stained with blood. He rummaged through her pack till he located a clean tunic, and grabbed his waterskin and knelt again at her side. He sat a moment and pondered her face. A frown marred her even features and her mouth was drawn down in pain. With a fingertip he traced the frown line as if he could erase it from her pretty face. The fact that he considered her pretty startled him somewhat, he never really looked at her that way before, not really. She was a fellow Warden and one of his best friends. After contemplating the direction his thoughts had turned, he would be lying to himself if he did not admit that she was comely. However, her acerbic sense of humor and sisterly regard of him had dampened his admiration of her as anything else than platonic. He just could not picture her as some vacuous elleth only concerned with clothing and finding a husband. In his mind she was simply Dara. Now that he had rationalized his admiration, he did not hesitate to untie the laces of her tunic and pulled the garment over her head. He poured water in the bowl and used a clean cloth to try and cool her fevered body. He could not help but admire her sleekly muscular form as he sponged off the dried sweat. He had to remind himself again that this was one of his best friends and he would do this for any wounded comrade. He felt guilty that he was even tempted to stare. She still showed no signs of rousing as he took the clean tunic and dressed her as carefully as possible so as not to aggravate the wound. He took the remaining blanket out of the storage chest and placed it over her. Then he gathered all of the soiled blankets, tunic, leggings and bandages and put them in a basket in the corner. He picked up the empty water skins and swiftly climbed down the ladder and went to a nearby stream. He then filled the skins and returned to the Flet. He placed the water containers on the floor and removed from the stored herbs a packet of powdered dried willow bark. He found the cup she had used and rinsed it out before adding clean water. To the liquid he added a liberal amount of the powder and stirred it with his finger. He sat beside the bed and slid an arm beneath her shoulders and eased her into a semi-upright position. He placed the cup to her lips and let some of the liquid trickle into her mouth. He was relieved when he saw her swallow. He kept forcing sips between her lips until the cup was empty. He could only hope that the fever broke because it was another two days till the outrider showed up and he could get her back to Caras Galadhon. They could not leave the border unprotected and the outrider could take his place, then he would be free to take the horse and return to the city to get Dara the medical attention she needed. He smoothed her matted hair away from her forehead and rested his hand on the side of her face, absentmindedly stroking her cheek with his fingers. He started guiltily and quickly removed his hand. What in the name of Elbereth was he doing? He berated himself at taking such liberties. If Dara had been awake she would have knocked him silly. As he sat by her side, his hands seemingly not under his control, stole their way back to her face. He lightly stroked her temples trying to soothe her restless dreams. He decided he would stay by her side the rest of the day but on the morrow he would have to try and figure out just what had happened.  
  
He studied her as she slept. She had an oval shaped face, high angular cheekbones and a dimpled slightly pointed chin. Pale blonde brows arched over eyes, that when open, were an extremely pale aquamarine blue ringed with darker cobalt. Her nose was the tiniest bit crooked from being broken during her first orc skirmish as a warden. He remembered that day well. 


End file.
